The 123rd Hunger Games
by NewtGirl
Summary: A co-op between me and Vstavajsonce, so don't send me all the praise. "Despite the Revolution, the Hunger Games managed to stay alive, killing more and more children. There was no reason to think the 123rd would be any different..." NOTE: NOT A SYOT. ANY SUBMISSIONS WILL BE IGNORED.


The Games went on, gradually expanding past the bound of the Capitol and onto the Districts.

It started with One and Two, as the Capitol began rioting. Their cries of "They deserve punishment! They volunteered in the war!" began to make the other Districts uneasy. This sort of public speaking from the sore-losers of the Capitol only caused irritation to the twenty-four year old Government.

In the end, the Government complied to add on the so-called Career Districts back to the Games, though certain people were given immunity. War heroes who had suffered enough loss were allowed to keep their children from entering, people who were disabled were not permitted to enter, and others along those lines.

More and more complaints on how it wasn't fair that only a small fraction of the people in Panem had to participate. The Government broke down and forced the lower Districts to be involved.

From the Capitol to Thirteen, all children (save for those who were immune) from the ages twelve to eighteen were entered. Every year, twenty-seven innocent children would slaughter each other in a brutal bloodbath and one was allowed to win, no one was allowed to forget the horrors of war, the terror each person felt when the country was torn in two.

-LINE BREAK-

Jules Lucas awoke in a cold sweat. His torn bedsheets were thrown over to the side in a hurry and he rose clumsily out of bed and onto the wooden floor of his small bedroom. Against the wall opposite him, a tiny figure slept soundly, curled in a ball. Ruben. Jules sighed—it was only Ruben's second Reaping, though it was Jules' sixth, though it seemed to take a heavier effect on the older boy than it did on the younger.

Fifty-six tesserae. How was it possible to need that many?! He wouldn't let his brother get any more than was absolutely necessary, what was required. Jewel—as he was called more often than not—carried the worries and stress of the family's poverty on his shoulders.

The smaller, somewhat sickly-looking boy stirred and Jules backed out of the room quietly before he sat up. He was afraid that if he saw his brother too much that day, that he'd jinx him—he'd be doomed to be Reaped. Perhaps it was just that odd sort of fear that was implanted into him since he was young, but he was superstitious. But maybe it was because he couldn't face him, because he was more apt to be Reaped.

He didn't want to be missed.

-LINE BREAK-

Nire Kiin glared at the ceiling of her room. All around her, outside, District Nine bustled, alive and well, preparing for the rest of the day. She figured she had ought to get up, but it could very well be to her death.

She bit her fingernail, in a way that probably appeared more neurotic than nervous. Her tangled brown hair sprawled out under her, and she sighed, sitting up.

"Darling!" That was definitely her mother, calling from the kitchen. Even trying to yell, her mother's voice was hardly audible through the walls. Nire crawled out of her bed and ran a gentle hand through her hair, in a half-caress, half-correcting manner. It didn't do much to smooth it down. Her door opened quietly, and her mother appeared in, holding what seemed to be a dress.

"Darling, you still have to—"

Nire nodded, though unknowing what it was she had to do, and jerked the dress from her mother's hands gruffly, giving her a curt nod so that she knew to leave.

"Your father's coming home today from Two," she said quietly, still in the doorway.

Something resembling a smile crossed Nire's face—and then she remembered the occasion. The Reaping—her father wanted to be there in case she got Reaped. But still, her father wanted to see her, and that was what stayed in her mind.

-LINE BREAK-

"Jewel!" Violet Steer nearly tackled her friend when she saw him. The sixteen year old girl grinned sloppily and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt, "Come on, come on, Terra's got something to show us! Something nice, he said, wouldn't lemme see it, but he said so!"

Jules nodded and followed the small girl down the uneven road to where their friend, Terrence, was seated on a flat, smooth rock on the outskirts of the District. On his wrist, something shiny and silver and what in the world is that?

He grinned when he saw them and jumped up, "Lookit!" Violet released her grip on Jewel's shirt and bounded over to Terrance. A thin, delicate chain hung from it, gleaming silver. Terrance smiled boastfully, holding his wrist up so that his two friends could see it clearly.

"It's gorgeous, isn't it? Silver—and is that sapphire? So pretty!"

"You're rather vain, aren't you, Vi?" Jules teased his friend, who pouted and stood up straight, blowing a lock of straw-colored hair from her forehead. Jules ran his fingers lightly through his.

"Hmph, whatever." She turned back to Terrance, who greatly appreciated her attention once more, "You gonna wear it as a Token if you get picked?"

He nodded, "That's why I got it—I've got so many, I'll probably... go in, you know?"

Violet sighed, "I hate this." No one bothered to disagree, because really, they didn't.

-LINE BREAK-

She stood silently in the Girls' Section, along with the rest of the seventeen-year-old's. The girl next to her was trembling from head to toe—and by the look of her clothes, all tattered and torn as they were, she probably wasn't going to make it to the end of the month.

She glared directly in front of her, at the stage, where Roy April swaggered forward—he was from Two, as most of the District Representatives were, though his personality screamed 'Old Capitol'—grinning wildly at the crowd. "Let's see," he said loudly, "Ladies first~!"

He reached his hand deep into the bowl and her heart thudded hard in her chest.

"Ophelia Iris! Come along, sweetie!" Roy beamed down at the crowd, a smile which was obviously fake—because Ophelia Iris was twelve years old, and she was going to die. The small girl stumbled forward and out of the crowd, her dark brown hair bobbing behind her in twin tails on either side of her head. She was very obviously crying, her entire body wracked with sobs, and each step looked as if it were painful on her.

Without thinking, her protective instinct kicked in—she wouldn't stand idly by as a mere child went off to die, even if they were complete strangers—and she jumped forward, shouting in a rough, harsh voice, "I volunteer!"

-LINE BREAK-

"Cheer up, Lava-boy, you won't get picked." Reassuring his younger brother was a second nature to him by then—though as Ruben grew older, he wasn't as apt to listen to empty consolations and promises. He wasn't stupid. "Oh, come on—if anybody's going to get picked, you know it's Terrance; he's got nearly seventy slips."

Ruben didn't reply, only stared at the ground, face pale with fear. He couldn't get picked—he only had a few slips in, it was impossible. Almost impossible, he reminded himself. Nearly impossible. Ruben couldn't get picked—the odds were literally in his favor!

They stood in their designated places, Jules in the seventeen-year-old Boy's section, and Ruben—though Jules still referred to him with his childhood nickname of 'Lava'—in the thirteen-year-old Boy's spot.

Yvonne Prowl was the obnoxious woman who represented their District each year, for the past four years. Jules felt an odd rumble in his stomach each time he saw her—something akin to hatred, maybe, he didn't know.

"As tradition dictates, ladies go first~!" Her voice was painfully sweet and sing-song, and she reached her overly-long-nailed hand into the Girl's bowl, and pulled out a pristine white slip.

"Lucinda Whitefield!" A tall, pretty sort of girl stepped forward, in a sort of daze. Her dark blonde hair was cut-off just above her jawline, giving her the appearance of a boy from behind.

As he expected, no one volunteered for her—though a few people in the Girl's and Adult's sections were crying. She didn't look very tough—and unless she was some sort of Johanna Mason, she wouldn't make it through the Games, or at least not very far into them.

"And now for the gentlemen~!" Yvonne's voice sounded out once more, and she reached into the Boy's ball, a wicked smile on her lips.

"Ruben Lucas."

The world around him seemed to freeze, and for a moment afterwords, it all seemed to go in slow-motion. Ruben stepped forward shakily, and everyone remained silent.

And what happened next, even he couldn't have predicted. The words poured out of his mouth, surprising himself and the rest of District Three, "I volunteer as tribute!"

-LINE BREAK-

The boy who was Reaped in her District was fifteen. She knew him—from around town, knew his name and face, but she didn't talk to him. She didn't talk to anybody, actually, other than her mother. She didn't regret it—she figured she'd end up in the Games, anyway, she didn't need to be killing friends.

Her father was there. He'd came rushing in, looking caught somewhere between proud and terrified. And only two words escaped his lips in the twenty minuted they stood before each other, "Good luck."

Her mother was sobbing nearly the entire time—her big green eyes overflowing with tears, and her entire body shaking. "I don't want to lose you!"

Nire Kiin, only child of that odd couple, couldn't find any words to say back. Her father, still remaining quiet, handed her a necklace—something from her room, though she didn't know when he had time to get it. A token from her District was all she was allowed. But that one, tiny piece of jewelry from her childhood was all she needed, to remember her life in District Nine.

The girl she volunteered for didn't bother to visit her.

-LINE BREAK-

Ruben didn't cry.

That was the first thing that Jules noticed of his brother as sat and waited for all the visitors to pass through. Ruben had only stared at him, not speaking. It was unexpected, the lack of his brother's tears for his, probably final, departure.

But maybe that was part of growing up. Maybe Ruben wasn't such a child, after all. Maybe he was ready to die.

No, no, no, he chastised himself for thinking like that. No one was ready to die. No one...

He felt sort of desensitized after the Reaping, though when Violet came in and threw herself on top of him and cried for her entire stay in the room, he felt nothing less than awful. For whatever reason, her visit made him feel stupidly guilty. The rest of his friends, Georgette, Isaac, Henry, William, all gave rather impersonal farewells and good lucks, but Violet's was... He couldn't explain it.

Eventually, his last guest came in. Terrance. He handed him his would-be token, and with a broken smile, departed from his company.

Jules ran an over-sized hand through his wavy brown hair and sighed, wondering what, exactly, he had gotten himself into, and hoping rather wildly that the odds would prove to be in his favor. Though, when the world would show that his luck wasn't completely rotten, he didn't know.

He hoped that at least, that he would die as painlessly as possible, though that didn't seem to be very possible.


End file.
